Disclaimers: not mine, unemployed, no money, unless you
want hairballs and shed cat fur, you ain't gettin' it here.

Summary: Ares gives Strife an order to find a few new
warlords or generals. Strife does it *his* way.

Warnings: odd, really really odd.

Notes: sorry, strife speaking normal people here. Most
of the time. I tried, it's as bad as house elf for me.

Who Wants To Be A Warlord!

Strife looked at the ranks of soldiers in front of him.
Ares had told him to go out and find more general material. He wanted people
he could train to be leaders instead of just targets. So he had an idea.
Sure, you could say he'd been watching too much tv again, but who cared?
He was the God of Mischief. Second in command to Ares, God of Asswiggles
recently. Besides, when would he get a chance to do something like this
again? "Line up!" he shouted, appearing in front of the massed troops.
Most of them went to attention. Three people however were pushing people
out of the way to get to the front. He should have known they'd be around
here.

"What are you doing with all these people, Strife?" Gabrielle
demanded.

"Shut up," he growled lazily. "You too, Jox. You've got
a chance." He walked up and down the lines muttering, "IQ, IQ, IQ, come
one people, we need intelligence. There's an IQ requirement." He finally
picked out sixteen people, including Joxer. "The rest of you do drills
with the blonde. She is the enemy," he called, pointing at Gabrielle and
Xena. The warriors whooped and took them for some live practice that jiggled.
They almost never got to see jiggling parts, and what did they care if
she complained? Strife looked at his sixteen. "All right, break into groups
of eight." Only one of them couldn't count that high so it was a good thing.
He sent that one against Xena, snickering as the poor guy tried to cop
a feel and she swatted him. "Fine, one of seven and one of eight. The first
group, follow me. The other, wait right here. Practice against each other,
you're going to be moving up." One stabbed another in the first group.
"Or moving on," he said with a shrug. He took them a little way away. "Okay,
I'm gonna ask some questions, you're gonna answer them as fast as possible
to score points. Got it?" They all nodded so he gave them bells and made
a little tally sheet that updated itself for him. "At the end of this round,
the top two get to move on, the others get to move up to section leaders."
They cheered him and he pulled out his copy of 'Wars in Ancient History',
thumbing through it. "Who was Sparta fighting against last?"

Joxer's bell rang. "Troy?" he asked. "Or was that the
fight before the last one? I was kinda out of the loop last season, Xena
only went fishing."

"Close enough," Strife decided. He found another question.
"What was the War at Troy over?"

One of the other guy's bell's rung. "That dish, Helen,
who looked so much like Aphrodite it was like touching the Goddess herself."
Everyone near him stepped away as a large, bright pink lightening bolt
came down and fried him where he stood.

Strife checked his sheet, it had updated itself. "Though
that was correct, remember, she is always listening."

"And you never give her fish as an offering or you'll
never get any again," Joxer said seriously. "I did that when I was fourteen."
The other guys shuddered. "It's not so bad after ten or fifteen years,"
he noted.

Strife looked at him. "If ya win, I'll make sure we fix
that for ya," he promised. He found another question. "What animal did
everyone hide in?"

A bell rang. "A goat?" one of them asked.

Joxer frowned at him. "It was obviously a horse, even
though it was out of proportion."

Strife noticed his sheet had updated again. Negative marks
to the one who said goat and extra, pink, ones for Joxer. He already had
ten points. Favoritism should not be allowed. He looked up. "You can't
do that, this is for a generalship," he called. Five of the points were
removed. "Fine," he sighed, going back to them. "What color does Ares wear?"

"Blood red, black, and the occasional purple robe," one
of the other guys said quickly, without ringing in. Strife gave it to him
anyway. "Sir, are we to be made into generals?"

"You'll be allowed ta test for it," Strife told him. He
looked at them. The other five guys looked really dumb. "Who would be happy
being a squad leader?" Those five raised their hands. "Good, go wait with
the other group and send them over." They went to do that. "You two, hand
over your bells." Joxer and the other guy handed over their bells. Agentus
Smartus was looking really pleasing in this race, but Joxer knew all the
information in the book because he had been handed a copy by Gabby to make
him smarter so she'd talk to him again. "Ready?"

One guy raised his hand. "Can I just be a squad leader?
I don't want that much responsibility, Lord Strife."

"Sure, go," he said, shooing him away. Joxer again got
a bell and Strife took it because everyone else had walked off. "Hey, it's
just you two so I guess you guys win our fastest finger round."

"But there isn't a trigger or a crossbow anywhere," Joxer
pointed out.

"It's a saying, Joxer," Strife said patiently. He had
to wonder, if the guy had sex would it cure that dopeyness? "We'll move
onto tactics now." He created a board. "Okay, who can tell me which battle
this was?"

Joxer rang his bell quickly. "Five battles ago, the one
Xena and us broke up," he said happily. He pointed at a figurine on the
edge. "See, there I am."

"I'm sure you are," the other warrior said in disgust.
"Lord Strife, he's not even one of us," he pointed out.

Strife pointed at where Gabrielle and Xena were kicking
everyone else's rears. "See them, they made him this way," he told him.
"That's Xena and Gabby." The warrior gave Joxer a respectful look. "He's
with them eleven months out of the year."

"How do you deal with them while they're being *women*?"
he asked breathlessly.

"See, Xena's got this neat little bottle with these little
things she calls pills and they help with all that. They're kinda neat.
They get rid of the cramps and the bloating while relieving their moods
and letting their armor fit correctly again. Ares gets them for her and
I'm going to demand any future women I work with take those too."

"He's got my vote, even though he can't shag a wench stupid."

"That's what tongues are for," Joxer said proudly, puffing
up some.

"Them?" the warrior asked.

"No!" Joxer snorted. "They're Amazons, they only like
other girls. I prefer women of questionable virtue because they're usually
amazed by my techniques after dealing with ordinary men."

Strife nodded. "Meg's girls sings songs about him," he
said in disgust. He looked at the field. "How many guys do you think we
have out there?"

"Roughly seven-hundred-forty-three," Smartus told him.

"Roughly?" Strife asked, grinning at him. "It's a good
thing you can count over eight. Okay, we'll take ya both. Let me go break
up the guys. They need to focus on fighting, not trying to get under Gabby's
tiny skirt."

"Can I have an unusual unit?" Joxer asked pleasantly.
"Maybe some bards so we're entertained as we roam the countryside breaking
up major wars for stupid reasons?"

Strife looked at him. "That's a good idea," he noted,
grinning evilly. "You'll be our undercover unit." He could see the other
guy mouthing the word 'bards' and shaking his head. He shrugged at him
and grinned. "Joxer's methods are very odd but he once took out two armies
with chickens." He patted him on the back as they walked down to join with
the new squad leaders. It fit that there were thirteen of them. About fifty
people each section under their new warlord and a small band for Joxer
too. He whistled. "Line up!" he shouted. They all lined up. Another idea
hit him. "Okay, all of you, take off any identifying marks. We're doin'
this lottery style." They looked confused but did so, then he passed the
cauldron around, having them put their identity tags into it. He looked
at the group. "Anyone who wants to do some undercover work or wants to
be a bard, step out and you've got a special assignment." The confusion
was making him high, he really loved this. When Ares got back from his
short vacation he was going to be stunned. Maybe he could do this every
year. Sixteen people stepped out. "Good. Each new squad leader pulls tags,
one each time, then keep goin' until they're all used up. Agentus Smartus
is now your new general, these other guys are squad leaders. And Joxer's
got the special group." He waved at them. "All yours, Joxer." Joxer hurried
over, and only one of them retreated immediately back into the pot.

Joxer looked at his people. "Okay, how many of you are
bards?" Most of them raised their hands. "Good, we're going to be traveling
the countryside stopping stupidity and stupid wars. We're going to go undercover
as bards." They slowly nodded. "No one expects a bard to be able to use
a bow or a sword, but we're better trained because we work with our hands.
We'll dress in nifty clothes and go around providing for ourselves because
we'll be making money for Ares at the same time." That did make them look
impressed. "Okay, we're going to go meet with my brother, he's three valleys
over and he's got loads of costuming experience and some instruments if
you don't have some. Strife?" he called, grinning at him. "May I take them
and start?"

"Sure, go for it, Joxie," Strife agreed, grinning madly
at them. A few of them shuddered, but that was okay, they were right to
fear him. And they would learn to fear Joxer too because that boy had some
peculiar ideas that always seemed to work out. He went back to watching
the lottery happen, knowing Jace's reaction days before it would happen.

"Oooh, did yous bring me all these men?" she cooed, patting
Joxer on the cheek.

***

Ares came back from his vacation, tanned, fit, looking
very relaxed. He checked on the progress of his armies, noticing that there
was a large force being commanded by someone he didn't know. "Strife?"
he called patiently. Strife appeared, already grinning. "Didn't I say to
give me *candidates* for generals or warlords?"

"Yeah, well, there were only two," he said with a twitch.
"The others make better squad leaders and that's what they wanted. So you've
got a new army with thirteen squads and one specialty unit pissin' off
Herc and Xena."

Ares pulled a chair over and sat down, he had a feeling
he'd need this. "What other unit? I didn't see another unit."

Strife called up the unit's progress, he had saved it
down. Joxer had done an amazing job of stopping any war near them quickly.
Discord was using them now to stop wars before they got out of hand. "Them,"
he said proudly.

Ares wasn't sure he wanted to know but he did look in
the scrying mirror. "They're bards," he noted.

"Nah, they're *pretendin'* ta be bards," he said, starting
to giggle. "They're fundin' themselves. They're stopping anything that's
goin' on too long. They've been goin' since the day you left and have only
lost one of them and picked up two more on the way. They've tithed us as
much as a few of the smaller temples so far this year. And the best thing,
the leader, he don't ask for no favors. Nothing. This is makin' him happy,
putting him to use, and pissin' both Herc and Xena off because he's doin'
better than them."

"Seventeen bards running around the countryside is doing
more for us than Hercules and Xena, together, to stop any and all wars
when they've gotten to a point where we want them stopped?" Ares deadpanned.
Strife nodded, grinning madly again. "Who's leading it, Strife?"

"See, I held a contest," he said, backing away slowly.
"The only two guys who had a clue got to be generals. Well, Agentus Smartus
is a warlord I guess, but the other's just as smart and Xena trained him,"
he said, disappearing before Ares could think about making a grab for him.

Ares looked in the mirror again, watching his 'bards'
as they got to work for Discord. He saw someone he vaguely recognized.
"STRIFE! YOU PUT JOXER IN CHARGE OF A FORCE!" he shouted.

Discord appeared. "The guy had it goin' on, bro, he hasn't
had any in fifteen years. He had to expend that energy somehow. He's really
focused when he's bottoming. He's a great planner. I'd never have thought
to say this, but if you don't want Joxer, I want him. Shit, even if I have
to chain him down and do him myself, he's a great planner. He's got strategies
like you wouldn't believe!" she said enthusiastically. "It took them ten
minutes to stop that battle. Herc has been trying now for three days."
She grinned. "I've got to reward that boy."

"Send them to my main temple, I want to hear about this,"
he said, trying to grab her.

"Uh-huh, sorry, bro, but we've got plans already. You're
just gonna have to get him some other way. Though, Hera knows he doesn't
like the fake sort." She winked and sashayed off.

"Eris, you can not steal my warlords," Ares yelled after
her. He grimaced as he went to check on Joxer personally. He found one
of Joxer's 'bards' plowing him and Joxer spouting off theory. War theory
and strategy theory. He tapped the bard and lowered his own pants, plunging
himself in. "Mine," he hissed in Joxer's ear. "You serve me, Joxer, swear
it."

His other bards were taking notes, Ares noticed. He'd
have to do more in-depth research into this new warlord. Maybe Strife had
a good idea? Nah, it was a lucky guess. He'd have to watch him do it next
time. Not that he'd get another one like Joxer. Maybe he could convince
someone else to give Aphrodite fish and not get any for fifteen years?
He came with a loud grunt and pulled back. The bards groaned and gave him
looks so he zapped himself hard and started again, and the bards got more
notes on theory.

Damn, he'd have to keep Joxer around.

This was the sort of Warlord he wanted. He'd have to reward
Strife for this one. He really, really would.